Until it Sleeps
by Dreamseeker1
Summary: One lonely night by the fire, Miroku is troubled by thoughts of the wind tunnel. Can anything relieve him from his pain? One-shot songfic based on the song by Metallica. A little MirokuSango, Please R&R!


Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Inuyasha, nor Metallica, because I am very poor and I just have a deep love for both of them.   
  
A/n: I got the idea for this fic while writing another fic and listening to the song by Metallica, "Until it Sleeps". My mind was wandering as I was thinking through a hole in my story and one of the scenes from this fic popped into my head at certain words of the song. I thought I might have something, so I listened again, and... I just think it sounds like Miroku when his thoughts get the best of him. And then I couldn't think of anything else when I heard this song but Miroku, so I had to write it if I ever wanted to listen to the song in peace. By the way, It's a long song, and therefore a long fic. Just a forewarning.   
  
Remember: I would be much obliged if you REVIEWED after reading; it's only polite after all. ^_^   
  
Many thanks to Tashana Ambrosia, who gets "Inuyasha and the gang" thoughts stuck in my head whenever I see her, and Tyric Stinnet, her loving brother and my… determined-guardian-who-is-almost-my-brother-but-not-quite-and-knows-his-Metallica-and-loves-them-more-then-I-do, and I dedicate this to them and hope they like it. ^_~   
  
There's a little bit of Sango/Miroku pairing, I hope you won't mind. Enjoy everyone!   
  
Sango: Um... I can't let you do this.   
  
Me: Hm? Why not?   
  
Sango: *blushing* because you destroy my good name... and reputation. Not to mention Miroku's...   
  
Me: *pats her back* Oh it's not that bad. You and Miroku were just kind of... weepy that night.   
  
Sango: *eyebrow twitches* Weepy? I am not "weepy"... and I don't go running off to him for comfort.   
  
Me: Really? *Smirks* In your head you do. *She blushes more deeply* Hmm... *I turn to audience* I'll show you who's right. And weepy? *Smirks mercilessly* Sango my dear? *Sango looks over, and I whisper and emphasize word* Kohaku!   
  
Sango: *Her eyes well up with tears, and she twitters* You cheated.... *blubbers*   
  
Me: *pats her back* I know. I had to do this to you, you know...Oh well, it fits my purposes...*Back to audience* Heh heh...Enjoy!   
  
Until It Sleeps   
  
Miroku rubbed his right palm again as he stared at the fire. Everyone else had gone to bed, and he had volunteered to keep watch for a few hours. They had settled in a clearing in the woods, and the shadows loomed beyond the small campfire.   
  
He rubbed his right hand again. The wind tunnel had felt different lately, ever since it had been cut open by the mantis-demon weeks ago. It became the center of his thoughts at all times, and he couldn't help but wonder: when was it going to take him? How much time did he have left? And the main one -the worst one: How could they ever defeat Naraku in time?   
  
These thoughts, these never-ending wounds, were just another part of the curse that he could not break. He even remembered himself as a young boy, talking to Moushin, asking him if there was no other way to break the curse.   
  
"Miroku," the older monk had answered. "Do you think we haven't tried? No, there is no other way. Naraku must be killed to break the curse of the wind-tunnel, there is nothing else."   
  
"But, Moushin," argued thirteen year-old Miroku. "I don't understand. The curse is to destroy our line by killing our sons through the years and through generations, right? But who would bear the son of a man with such a curse?"   
  
Moushin laughed grimly. "Very few. Another aspect of the curse, I suppose."   
  
"So can no one help me bear this pain?" He stared at his palm in turmoil, this only inheritance from his father.   
  
Moushin rested his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Miroku, you will have to bear this alone, just as did your father and grandfather." He removed his hands and went back to making sutras. "Now go and get me a drink."   
  
And even as the young boy left the room, he whispered to himself, "So the only way to not be alone, to live, is to kill Naraku... And should I never find him, this pain will pass to my sons, if I have them. Until then, I am alone..."   
  
Since then he had traveled Japan in search of Naraku, with no luck in defeating him.   
  
  
  
***Where do I take this pain of mine?   
I run but it stays right by my side***   
  
  
  
"Houshi-sama?"   
  
He looked over to see Sango quietly coming toward him, rubbing her beautiful eyes. "Sango? Why are you awake?"   
  
She sat a little ways away from him. "I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd help you keep watch, but I saw you and I thought you'd fallen asleep."   
  
He played with the beads around his arm. "No, I was merely thinking... I was rather deep in thought."   
  
"I should say so. What were you thinking about?"   
  
He shook his head. "It doesn't really matter."   
  
"Oh, come on. You can tell me."   
  
He looked up, and she looked completely innocent, completely heart-warming. Her smile was inviting, and her eyes told him he could trust her. For a moment he felt a pang of sympathy for Kohaku when he had been alive, for it must have been awful keeping secrets from her. But he pulled his thoughts into order fairly quickly. "Nothing, really. Just the wind tunnel."   
  
She cocked her head. "Is it bothering you?"   
  
Miroku shrugged. "I was just thinking about what would happen if..." He trailed off, not wanting to say it, for to voice it aloud would be to give it some hold over him.   
  
"If what?" Sango scooted closer, hands clasped around her knees, held close to her kimono for warmth on the cold night.   
  
He gave her a weary look. "If we don't defeat Naraku in time."   
  
Sango's eyes grew dim, sad. "Oh..." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Houshi-sama... Miroku, we'll make it in time. I know we will." She looked at the others, sound asleep. "I have faith in them, in you."   
  
Miroku opened his mouth to ask her if she had any faith in herself, but the words wouldn't come. For if he asked her that, he'd be tempted to ask her more. To ask the unaskable. He could hear himself ask it in his head: Sango, can you help me?   
  
He closed his mouth again. What could she do? Nothing. It was his curse, and his alone. He would not burden Sango with the thoughts that so troubled him.   
  
  
  
***So tear me open and pour me out   
There's things inside that scream and shout   
And the pain still hates me***   
  
  
  
But maybe, just maybe, she could help him just for now... Maybe he could ask her...   
  
  
  
***So hold me,   
Until it sleeps...***   
  
  
  
He shook his head. He couldn't do it.   
  
Sango didn't notice. "What's causing you to think about it so much lately?"   
  
He opened and closed the hand, staring at it as the fire hissed. "I don't know; that night at the temple, I suppose. The night I almost died."   
  
Sango gave him a piercing look. "The night you were prepared to die."   
  
He looked at her helplessly. How could he explain? "Sango..."   
  
She threw some wood in the fire. "No, don't say it, I already know." She held her hands in front of her in apology. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Houshi-sama, but you worry me. Those thoughts worry me."   
  
Really? he thought. I do? They do? He wanted to reassure her, to tell her everything would be all right, but the truth was he agreed with her. The thoughts didn't only worry him; they scared him. He couldn't stop thinking them, couldn't make them go away.   
  
  
  
***Just like a curse; just like a stray   
You feed it once and now it stays   
(Now it stays)***   
  
  
  
"Sango... I don't want you to worry about me. Really, I...I don't want to trouble you while you grieve."   
  
Sango looked away. "I don't want to grieve. I want to get revenge. I want to kill Naraku."   
  
"Of course you do. I want to too. But along the way you need to grieve for your kin, for after Naraku is dead it will be twice as hard on you."   
  
Good, he thought. Change the subject. Make her stop thinking about me. Let her think about revenge, while she's still angry at the world for her own curse.   
  
And she reminded him of himself when he had first left Moushin's temple. He had used his wind tunnel freely, sucking up every demon he had come across. He had been ruthless, merciless, and had made Naraku look almost kind in contrast. The blood of those who had done nothing to him still stained his hands -or hand, one should say- and no matter how many times he purified himself, those deaths would still cause him pain. It's not like he couldn't control it, for he'd spent years practicing control with Moushin since the curse didn't particularly care what it sucked up. So those deaths were blamed on him, and him alone, it seemed.   
  
"Houshi-sama, you will not try to change the subject." Tears were in her eyes, and you could tell that her thoughts about Naraku were as delicate as his own. Why couldn't she see that? He almost became angry with her for prying into his private thoughts, for not leaving him alone.   
  
But was that what he really wanted?   
  
  
  
***So tear me open but beware   
There's things inside without a care,   
And the dirt stills stains me   
So wash me   
Until I'm clean***   
  
  
  
His fist clenched again and again in anger. Those damn thoughts had come to the point he hated most, where he felt sorry for himself, where he wanted to die at the injustice of it. He had done nothing wrong, and yet this curse was his to break. He didn't want Sango here, watching him as if he were some actor in a show to keep her entertained. He stoked the fire again and glared at her. "Why don't you go to bed?" He snapped. "I can't very well keep watch with you here. I can't focus on anything but you or be rude, so anyone could just come up and I wouldn't notice."   
  
Sango rolled her shoulders, not paying too much attention. "Why don't you? I'm not tired, I said, and I haven't kept watch in a long time -maybe even a month. And I wouldn't mind."   
  
"No." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I said I'd keep watch tonight. You can just go lie down." He turned away.   
  
Sango must have been tired, for she wouldn't take the hint, and she was a very perceptive person normally. "But I'm not tired, I said. Don't you listen?"   
  
"Don't you!?! Just leave me in peace, leave me alone!" He jumped up and stalked into the woods fuming angrily, leaving Sango there staring in shock.   
  
She's a fool, he thought. A complete fool. She hasn't dealt with her own curses and yet she tries to help me with mine! Why can't she see that all I want is to be left alone, to deal with this alone?   
  
But another thought answered him. Maybe that's why. Maybe she can find comfort in helping you, because she can't help herself. Like you can't help yourself.   
  
"Just shut up!" He gripped his head in his hands and with his fingers weaving through his hair. Sticks and stones cut at his feet as he ran, crashing through branches. He tripped and fell to his knees, scraping his hands as he put them out to break the fall. He cried out as he hit the ground.   
  
This is madness, he thought, breathing hard. This is lunacy. You're running from your friends, when all they want to do is help you. He suddenly blanched. Oh God... Sango...   
  
He jogged back to camp to apologize, being a little more careful about the path he took. He practiced along the way, or tried to. "Sango... I'm sorry for what I did, really. I was just letting my thoughts get the better of me, and I... I'm sorry." He shook his head and started again. "Sango? I've come to apologize for my actions... I was completely out of line..."   
  
He pushed aside another branch as their camp came into view. He didn't wait for her to speak, but lowered his eyes and apologized. "Sango, please forgive me. I wasn't thinking, and I'm sorry."   
  
He waited for her answer, but it didn't come. "Sango, please say something. I'm sorry, really." When he heard naught but silence, he lifted his head. "Sango?"   
  
She wasn't there. He quickly glanced over to her futon, but it had gone as well. And so had her pack. Kilala was still fast asleep, but if indeed Sango had left, Kilala would be able to find her.   
  
He took off back into the woods, trying to find her. "Sango?" he called at a loud whisper. "Sango, answer me!"   
  
He couldn't find her anywhere. He looked and looked, calling her name. "I'm sorry Sango! Sango!" I will not lose her. I can not lose her. "Sango, please..."   
  
He heard a muffled crying from far off to his left. He went slowly toward it, being as quiet as he could.   
  
In a stream of moonlight he could see her between the trees, sitting on her knees and crying into her hands. He came up to her and kneeled down to her height. "Sango... I'm so sorry..." He reached his hands out towards her, but she batted them away.   
  
"Go away. Just go away..." she sobbed. She wasn't angry, she was genuinely sad. And it tore Miroku apart.   
  
"Sango, please. I didn't mean what I said earlier... I was angry at the curse, not at you. Please..."   
  
"No," she quailed. "You were right. I couldn't leave you be, could I?" She removed her hands from her tear-streaked face. "I had to bother you, even when I wouldn't let you ask me the same questions. Houshi-sama... I am just another bother to you. I won't trouble you anymore."   
  
"Sango, listen to yourself," said Miroku. "You can't defeat Naraku by yourself; you can't defeat your problems alone. We're here to help you. And you just wanted to be there to help me, and I didn't want to see it." Her gaze found his, searching. He took one of her hands in his own. "I'm afraid, Sango. I've had this curse for so long and I've been taught that I must handle this alone. And now I don't have to anymore, I'm scared that I'm going to hurt you. You, and Inuyasha, and Kagome, and even Shippou. I don't want you to hurt like I do."   
  
"But Miroku," she argued. "We're already cursed ourselves. Look at Inuyasha. He has to deal with Kikyo's memory and now her ghost. Kagome knows that it's her fault that we need to find all the shards of the Shikon Jewel. Even Shippou...When all this is over, he won't have any parents to take care of him. And then me..." She trailed off. "I've got nothing but a monster in my brother's body. We all have our curses, Miroku. And though they aren't the same as yours," She rubbed his right hand gently. "They still hurt us all." Tears flowed out of her eyes in anger. "It all comes down to Naraku. He did this to us."   
  
"I know, Sango. I know." Miroku squeezed her hand. "It'll be okay. I know it will okay."   
  
Sango spoke the thought he hadn't voiced. "But it isn't all right now."   
  
He put his arms around her, voice shaking. "I know."   
  
She leaned into his robes, trying to stop crying. He clutched back at her, needing the comfort.   
  
  
  
***It grips you so hold me   
It stains me so hold me   
It hates you so hold me   
It holds you so hold me   
Until it sleeps***   
  
  
  
"Why now?" she sputtered. "Why tonight? Why do we give in?"   
  
He stroked her hair, staring into the distance, thinking the same thing. "I don't know. Maybe it's the quiet calm of night. Maybe it's the need to help, to be helped."   
  
"Are we all so weak?" Sango pulled away from him, looking deep in his eyes for the answer of a question without one. "Taijiya are not raised to be weak, to give in to the slightest emotion." And even as she said it, the tears seemed to disappear from her face.   
  
"But you are not made of stone, and neither am I. Let's go back." They rose and started back, strangely quiet, both interested in their own thoughts. Though Miroku could not hear Sango's, his own were plain. So much pain, Naraku. You've caused so much pain, and your karma is going to find you one day soon... If I don't first.   
  
As they neared the light of the dying fire, Miroku paused to look at his hand, wondering again if he would ever be free. He set his jaw as he clenched it. It held so much sway over his life, not only killing him slowly, but saving him as well.   
  
  
  
***So tell me why you've chosen me   
Don't want your grip,   
Don't want your greed   
Don't want it***   
  
  
  
"Houshi-sama," began Sango hesitantly, giving him sidelong glances. "I must have been a little more tired than I thought. I, uh..."   
  
He smiled at her. "Goodnight Sango. Go and rest. I'll see you when it's light."   
  
She smiled and went to bed, leaving him alone in the darkness. Alone with his thoughts. He put more wood on the fire and sat down by it, staring lazily at the flames. They danced, back and forth, a ballet for all who knew it. Back and forth they swayed, back and forth... lulling him to sleep... beckoning him...   
  
He stood up and shook his head to clear it. Any more thoughts like that and he would fall asleep. He couldn't sleep; he had to keep watch. He remembered a cool spring they had passed nearby, so he grabbed his staff and went to get a drink. With too many thoughts at once like this at once, he longed to be Moushin, to be drunk and not worrying about the living world.   
  
He staggered once or twice while rubbing his eyes and thinking about the eventful night. He had lost complete control this night, and he knew he would have to pay for it sometime. The cool night air woke him up slowly, blowing a freezing wind that steadily grew stronger. The treetops rustled, playing with the moonlight and his tired mind. He sighed in frustration.   
  
He knelt down to the surface of the bubbling pool and drank deeply from his hands. The water soaked through his robe, reaching the wind tunnel in his hand. The cold water bit and he jumped back. He heard laughing and leapt to his feet.   
  
"Who's there?" He brought the staff up to near his right hand and looked around. "I am but I humble monk traveling. Who's there?"   
  
The laughing came again, from right in front of him, and his grip tightened as his jaw clenched. "I will ask you again," he said quietly. "Show yourself, or I will be forced to hurt you. I am armed."   
  
"What? That little twig, hurt me?" The voice was male's, amused and intelligent. A demon, he decided. It would have to be. "Poor, pathetic little monk. You had to pass by my pool, and now you have to die."   
  
He stepped into a fighting stance as a shadow emerged from the darkness. It wasn't tall, by anyone's standards but Shippou's, and it seemed to have wings instead of arms. A bird? No, a bird wouldn't assault him from the ground. What then? "Forgive for passing by your pool; I had no idea it belonged to you."   
  
"I'll forgive you -while you pass through my stomach. I am Samuru, and I have a reputation for being brutal to my dinner." It stepped into the moonlight and Miroku saw the entirety of the grinning fiend with a sigh of frustration.   
  
It had to be a bat demon, he thought. Nothing in this world is as simple as it seems. A bat demon! Why do I do this again?   
  
The demon saw the look of frustration and laughed. "Why do you tremble, little monk? Are you afraid?"   
  
He set his jaw and moved his left hand over the prayer beads. "I do not tremble before you. I fear no one."   
  
"Good. That should make this more interesting." His red eyes glowed in the darkness. "I would like to know the name of my meal, little monk."   
  
Warning bells went off in his head. Only a spy… "Miko. I am called Miko* by those who know me."   
  
"Miko…" The bat glared suspiciously. "Well, Miko, goodbye." He suddenly transformed into full demon form and flew towards Miroku, unfolding his bat wings.   
  
Miroku didn't hesitate. He whipped the beads away from the wing tunnel, letting the abyss loose. The bat demon screamed as it was pulled forward to it and tried to turn around. "You are Miroku! Nooo!" He struggled against the wind, flapping his wings in desperation. But it was useless. The wind tunnel brought the demon in. As he went in, he cried out loudly, a roar of rage. Miroku tried not to scream in pain as the wind tunnel cut in his hand even further.   
  
  
  
***I'll tear me open make you gone   
No more can you hurt anyone   
And the fear still shakes me   
So hold me   
Until it sleeps   
  
It grips you so hold me   
It stains me so hold me   
It hates you so hold me   
It holds you   
Holds you   
Holds you...   
  
Until it sleeps   
  
(Until it sleeps   
Until it sleeps   
Until it sleeps)***   
  
  
  
At the sound of the roar, a dozen of the bee-like demons flew out of the trees, heading straight for the wind tunnel. "Damn!" He wrapped the painful curse back up and slashed at the bees with his staff. They disappeared one by one as his staff cut the demons in half.   
  
The last one fell, and he fell to his knees, holding his arm. It hurt from the wound of taking the demon in. It hurt to think that several years had just been taken off his life - again. The damn thing was worthless. He hated it. Hated himself. He watched as blood dripped from his hand, and again he found himself thinking it wasn't worth it.   
  
  
  
***I don't want it   
I don't want it   
Want it   
Want it   
Want it   
Want it   
Nooooo***   
  
  
  
He could always get rid of it. Just cut it away, he thought. Not deal with it anymore. I could do it. It wouldn't be hard. He looked around, making sure the woods were silent.   
  
  
  
***So tear me open but beware   
There's things inside without a care,   
And the dirt stills stains me   
So wash me   
'Til I'm clean   
I'll tear me open and make you gone   
No longer will you hurt anyone   
And the hate still shakes me   
So hold me   
Until it sleeps***   
  
  
  
Even as he began to prepare himself for the end of his pain, his mind held him back. No, I won't. I can't. I'm better than my father; my fate is different than his. I will not be defeated by Naraku's curse.   
  
He hung his head in shame, in pain that he had thought about it.   
  
"Houshi-sama?"   
  
He looked up wildly. "Sango? What are you doing here?"   
  
She shifted Hiraikotsu on her back. "I heard a yell. Was there trouble?"   
  
He flexed his cursed hand. "Already taken care of."   
  
She stared at him. "You didn't…"   
  
He nodded. "I did. If the curse can be useful, why not make use of it?" Sango looked hurt. "Don't worry Sango. For now, I'm safe. I won't use it again 'til it's healed, I promise. For now, I guess it sleeps."   
  
  
  
***Until it sleeps...   
  
  
--- * Thank you Tashana Ambrosia for this name, and thank Tanaya for me! (This name comes from the story "Family Ties", which I beg you to read, by Tashana Ambrosia. It is one of the best fics on this site!)   
  
Thank you and now review! 


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